


The Ghost of You

by DreamFandomTrash



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Grieving Steve Harrington, Heavy Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Spoilers, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, dancing with a ghost, one last dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27223129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamFandomTrash/pseuds/DreamFandomTrash
Summary: After the events of Chapter 8, Steve misses someone he never thought he wouldn't have with him. He misses Billy. Steve struggles with grief and sadness every day, dreaming at night of the happiest day of his life. The winter dance with Billy as his date. It was their first time in public and Steve doesn't care that it isn't real. He just wants one last dance with the love of his life.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	The Ghost of You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic should be read with Ghost of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, Mr. Loverman by Ricky Montgomery (slowed or a live recording is most effective), or Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie Clark playing in the background for maximum effect. I couldn't decide whether I wanted this to be flayed! Billy dancing with Steve one last time before ultimately killing him or if I just wanted it to be Steve dreaming of dancing with Billy again. I went with the latter, and I personally think it is the more heartbreaking of the two options. This contains grieving and sadness, so if anything to do with that is a trigger please do not read and keep yourself safe if you do. Also, when kids are mentioned I mean The Party, just to avoid confusion.

_Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side_

He felt numb. For a while after it happened, Steve Harrington just felt numb. Like his entire body was submerged in ice with no hope of getting out. That lasted a week, maybe two. He had honestly lost count. He didn't get out of bed, he wouldn't leave the house even if he had managed to work up the energy, he wasn't eating, he wasn't doing anything. It was like Steve had just shut down, only doing the basics for life like breathing and using the bathroom. More often than not though, he stayed holed up in his room wrapped up in one of the only things he had been allowed to have of Billy's. His leather jacket. He would wrap it around some pillows and snuggle up to it late at night when he found all he could do was replay what had happened over and over again in his head and pretend that he was still here, holding him through his nightmares like he always used to. It worked, to some effect. Soon his nightmares were replaced with something much worse. _Nothing._ He would manage to find sleep in the early hours of the morning only to be met with no dream at all. Which seemed to be worse than the nightmares, in some cruel way.

_There's your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time_

It was cruel how everyone moved on with their lives. Like someone hadn't just been taken. Like someone who he loved hadn't just been taken. No, taken wasn't the right word at all. _Stolen_. Yes, stolen was far better a word for the injustice that was the death of Billy Hargrove. At least, it was to Steve. Even though he had started getting out again, Steve didn't open up to people anymore. He told no one the reason the bags under his eyes seemed to gain more and more weight as the days went on. Or why he had all of a sudden added a leather jacket to his daily ensemble or why he had taken up smoking. It wasn't their business. Steve went through the motions of every day life without really putting any heart into it and no one seemed to notice. He wondered why for a day or two before coming to the conclusion that he was just that good an actor. His mask was just that perfectly crafted. Why did this have to hurt so much? Everything reminded him of the late blonde. He couldn't even look at the sky the same without thinking of how he didn't have a partner to look up at it with anymore.

_If I can dream long enough, You'd tell me I'd be just fine, I'll be just fine_

He found that once the bad dreams started, he had trouble stopping them. The mindflayer's branching tentalcle-like limbs stabbing into Billy played in his mind over and over again like a bad movie he would give anything not to see. And by far the worst part of all of this was waking up in the morning. The split second before his brain caught up with reality. He would see the empty spot in bed and think that maybe Billy had run somewhere to get breakfast for him, or he was taking care of the kids so he could sleep in. Then it hit him. The blonde wouldn't be bringing him breakfast. Steve wouldn't get a call or find a note saying the kids were taken care of and that he should get more beauty sleep. His briefly hopefilled heart shattered all over again. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks and he curled back up in bed. He never went back to sleep, he didn't think he could face that again, just lay in bed with the blankets wrapped tightly around himself. He stayed like that for weeks, maybe even months.

_So I drown it out, like I always do_

Then something changed. And it was probably both the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to Steve. He went to sleep at 3 in the morning expecting nightmares. Instead, he found himself back at the Snow Ball sitting on the bleachers. He looked around, and unlike when they had really gone to the dance there were no jeering people. It was just him on the bleachers, and a spotlight beaming down onto the gym floor. Steve rose from his seat and slowly approached the circle of light, a smile gracing his lips for the first time in a long time. Then, he appeared. There was his Billy, in that stupidly handsome open shirt and flashing him that stupidly stunning crooked smile. "I never thought you would show up, Hargrove." Steve couldn't stop smiling, tears pricked in his eyes and before he knew it he was crying. Billy stepped up close to him, gently holding his face and wiping the tears away. "Hey, hey, hey...It's okay, Stevie..." He was so unbearably soft with Steve, all of the yearning and pain left his body as he leaned into those strong hands. "I miss you so much..." Steve sniffled and brought his hands up over Billy's, trying to believe that this was real but deep down knowing it wasn't. "I miss you every fucking day and it...it hurts so much..." Billy's smile turned a bit sad. "I know, honey." He pressed a kiss to Steve's head, pulling him closer. "I'm so damn sorry I can't be there for you anymore." The blonde held Steve close and swayed with the brunette as a song faded in.

_Dancing through our house_

The two swayed in that spotlight together, relieving the best day of their life together. "You need to take care of yourself, Steve." Billy chided, looking down at him. "It's okay to be happy when I'm not there, okay?" Steve didn't look at him, nodding a little. He just wanted to be with him for as long as he could. The blonde ran his fingers through Steve's carefully styled hair. "Remember that I'm always there with you. You can't feel me but I'm there. And all I want, Steve, is for you to be okay..." Steve looked up at him. "It's so hard to not have you...Every day I wake up and for a split second I think you're still there, out being so amazing and sweet. Then I remember. I rememeber that you're dead and I'll never have you in my arms again. I'll never smell the cigarettes on your breath or see your ungodly bedhead again. And it just shatters me. So I can't be okay. I don't think I ever will be until you're back and we both know that's impossible." Steve hadn't realized he had raised his voice until he heard his words echoing in the silence left behind. "I love you so much Billy. My life is shitty without you in it and nothing will change that." He raised his head up, kissing Billy despite his brain screaming that this wasn't real and he shouldn't get attached. Billy kissed back, of course. He may be dead but he still missed Steve like crazy. He could watch over Steve all he wanted but he would never be able to do anything when he got sad. Couldn't wipe away his tears and tease him about toughening up like he used to. And having to just watch Steve self destruct and not be able to help was worse than any torture he got from that mind-flayer bastard. The spotlight on the couple started to dim, the gym around them beginning to fall away. Neither one of them said anything, yet they both knew what was happening. Steve clung tightly to Billy, trying to get a hint of that same old comforting smell he used to. And he caught it very faintly.

_Then he woke up_

_With the ghost of you_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I put you all through that. Please let me know if you have any issue with how I portrayed grief in this fic, I don't want to offend or upset anybody. The lyrics used throughout are from Ghost of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, which inspired the whole premise for the fic.


End file.
